A cold case from Gotham
by Cyzara Nymphis
Summary: A body is found embedded in concrete under the floor of a shopping mall. It's up to a young detective and her partner to solve this twenty year old murder. Character deaths, mild slash One shot


_I do not own Batman, or any other copyrighted materials. Okay, this is not a cross over, so we get that clear. I like Cold Case (TV show) and this is kind of like it but this is not **exactly** like it. It's just kind of inspired by. The cops are all OC's and I don't follow Batman history well. I know it, I just choose to ignore it. Hey comic book writers do it all the time. My sister loves Cold Case; this was written for her. I, however, find that show incredibly depressing and it makes me cry. So writing this made me cry. Sorry if reading this makes you cry. Character deaths, emo-ness, a little slash. It doesn't tie into my other fics though, just so you know. It is very sad and there's not exactly a happy ending. You were warned._

Detectives Mica Del Salvo and Gary Patterson stood next to there car, just arriving on the scene. A call had come in this morning about a corpse found imbedded in the cement under an old shopping mall that was being remodeled. The two police officers walked through the construction sight to meet with forensics officers already at the site.

"Hey Mica," A redheaded officer smiled at the woman. Del Salvo was a not a rookie, but she was relatively new to being a cold case detective rather than a beat cop. She wore the usual suit and trench coat over her wiry frame rather than the Gotham City police uniform. She smiled nervously at the greeting officer, her dark eyes holding a slight excitement. She brushed a hand through her dark hair and collected her thoughts. _Eyes on you, girl. Knock 'em dead,_ Mica thought. Her father always said that to her. Back then it was when she went on stage for a dance recital. Now it was her motivation.

"What have you got for us, David?" Del Salvo said, nonchalantly. _That's right, girl. Keep it cool._

The redhead, David Satie, motioned forward as he lead them to the body, "Workers found it sometime this morning. Broke up the old floor and there was a space. They thought it was just an air pocket until the smell. Looks like a male, about forty-five to fifty years of age. Not sure how long he's been down there; Probably since the building when up. That was a good twenty years ago."

Patterson, Mica's partner, nodded, "Alright, got a cause of death?" They were approaching the taped of area now. The concert floor was broken up, and in a busted up section was a skeleton. Patterson walked over and inspected the remains. He was an older man, about the same age Del Salvo's father would have been. He had a square chiseled face with dark blue eyes that were rather intimidating. His salt and pepper hair giving him a aura of experience.

"Not really sure yet," Satie walked up next to Detective Patterson. "But it looks like some one ran him over with a steam roller. If you look here-" the officer pointed to several differnt places on the skeleton- "you'll see clear breakage. But the construction crew had a little hand in breaking him up too. Plus, the bones are rather brittle. Possibly from age."

Del Salvo put a hand on her chin, "Well, at lest we have a start. Maybe, he worked here?"

David Satie, always one for dramatics, smiled, "I don't think so." He lifted up something from the corpse. "Look at this." It was a glass bottle, like something from a laboratory. Etched in the glass was an odd symbol; A face that kind of looked like something that would have been on a jack-o-lantern. Gary Patterson crossed his arms.

"Del Salvo, we have just found the Scarecrow."

The young woman looked puzzled, "The what?"

Her older partner laughed, "Come on, I know you know all the old stories of 'the Batman' and all the loonies he used to chase."

"Yeah, Bruce Wayne. The guy's locked up in Arkham." She sighed.

Patterson shook his head, "Self-admitted actually. This John Doe here is probably the Scarecrow. One of Batman's costumed enemies. He disappeared about twenty years ago, so this is looking to be an open and shut case."

Del Salvo shook her head, "No, considering he was hidden by someone, then this is a murder."

The older man raise an eyebrow, "So? This guy killed people. What does it matter if someone gets away with killing him, kid?"

The young woman stared hard at her partner, her dark skin turning red, "It does matter. Remember, justice is blind."

Patterson smile; He was proud of his partner. She understood. "That's right, Salvo. What do you think is our next step?"

She smiled; Being tested was something she enjoyed. He father often did it about the same, and she knew it had made her a better person. She nodded, "Well, we should wait for forensics get a report on the body, but we could run a check on disturbances in this place twenty years ago. And we could gather some info on this guy, known acquaintances. Maybe we could talk to some of them."

"Great, kid." Patterson smiled warmly. "You might just get this yet."

000

At the Gotham City Police Headquarters Del Salvo and Patterson sat at a desk, pulling up a case file.

"Ah, so that's his real name, Jonathan Crane. _Dr._ Jonathan Crane." Gary said. He scrolled down the file, "Guy's got a record a mile long."

Del Salvo looked at the picture of the man they had found this afternoon. He had dark hair and a thin sallow face. He was expressionless and had cold blue eyes. There was something so unsettling about those eyes, even in the picture. She turned her attention to the list of accomplices.

"Looks like he teamed up with a few others, but one name keeps popping up." She rolled down the list, "An Edward 'Riddler' Nygma A.K.A. Eddie Nash...Wait-" Her eyes widened. She turned to her partner. "Is that Edward Nash? The weird guy in profiling?"

Patterson nodded. He sighed, "It seems so. I knew Nash had been involved in some shady business in the past, but I did not realize how much so."

A young woman came running up. She clutched a file to her chest. She wore he black hair in pig-tails that bounced as she bounce along. Her almond shaped eyes darted around. She spoke in a high, excited voice, "Oh! Gary! I have all the results from the lab!" She slapped the file down and opened it.

"Great! So wha-" Patterson spoke, but the over-excited girl interrupted him.

"Lab confirmed this _is_ Jonathan Crane. From best we can tell, he died from an impact. About seventy percent of the bones in his body were broken. On top of that, he was extremely malnourished, probably causing the fall he suffered to be fatal. There were other materials too: Some burlap, from the amount he was probably wearing it, a scythe blade-the handle had rotted, a pair of glasses, some sort of chemical compound that we are still working to identify, the glass beaker of course, and"-She held up a evidence bag- "This!" In the bag, was a diamond the sized of a walnut. "Check out this rock! This thing could have bought him a small island some where. But looks like he just got a cement coffin..."

Del Salvo sighed and smiled. This enthusiastic young woman was Alice Yoshido, but most people just called her 'Squirrel'. She was a brilliant pathologist, but she had a severe case of ADHD. The detective took the diamond from the girl, "Well we know this was not a robbery. Well, at least, he was not the one being robbed. Yoshido, you said he was malnourished. Maybe, he had been hiding there."

"No, doesn't look like it," The older detective said, looking over the computer screen. "Jonathan Crane suffered from eating disorders, according to his medical records from Arkham. And think about were we found the victim."

Mica bit her lip; She knew better than to make assumptions. "He was under the upper level. With his arms and legs broken plus his rib cage crushed, someone would have had to moved him there."

"Right. What we need to know is who that was," Gary smiled that warm smile of his. "So, let's start with his favorite accomplice. Come on, lets go downstairs." He got up from the desk and his partner followed.

Yoshido smiled and chirped after them, "I'll let you know as soon as we find something else! We still have lots to look into!"

The two officers walk past the desk of their co-workers. Del Salvo smiled sadly; She wondered if her father was proud of her. As a young girl, she dreamed of being a ballerina, and had the talent for it. But that was before, when her father was alive. Mica's father was a doctor, and all the young woman had. Her mother had passed away when she was too young to remember her. A car accident. He father put himself thought medical school and took care of his daughter. He worked himself nearly to death to pay for her dance lessons. She wondered if he would be ashamed that she had given it up to chase a criminal's killer.

Del Salvo and her partner got on the elevator, and Patterson pressed 'B1'. Down to Profiling. To speak with another co-worker of theirs. An odd old man by the name of Edward Nash. She had always wrote him off as eccentric, but she never thought he had been a 'mask', as costumed vigilantes and villains were often referred to.

"Gary, if Nash was this 'Riddler'," She asked, leaning against the wall of the elevator. "Why did the department hire him?"

"Well, I think it was to keep an eye on him," Patterson said, looking up at the digital display for the floor the elevator was on. " Or maybe because he does a damn good job. He turned himself in to Arkham about twenty years ago. Reformed. He went to Gotham University and got a few degrees. But most people never learned to trust a mask, no matter what."

"Twenty years ago?" Mica said thoughtfully, "That's about when our vic died. You think he was involved?"

"I couldn't tell you. Maybe he can." The older man shrugged. The elevator stopped. The doors slid open and dinged. The two detectives stepped out into the old granite floored hallway and walked down to a simple wooden door with a frosted glass window. Patterson opened and a held the door for Del Salvo, then followed her in. Sitting at a desk, humming to himself, was the strange older man they had came to see. He was nearing sixty years old. He had stark-white hair that was wiry from being dyed too much. His face was deeply wrinkled, probably from the stress of life. But his green eyes were bright and lively, like a child's. He spun around in the wheeled office chair he sat in. He was wearing a dark green suit with a light purple shirt and the oddest tie; It was a Halloween tie, with a pumpkin-headed scarecrow on it. What made it so odd was it was mid-January. A smile stretched across his face, almost reminding Mica of the Cheshire cat.

"Ah, Detective Patterson, to what do I owe the honor?" Nash's voice sounded young and cheery, carrying an almost arrogance. Patterson looked grim however.

"Edward, I need to speak to you." the older detective pulled up a few chairs, for him and his partner. He sat down; she did as well, following his example. "About Jonathan."

The smile faded from Nash's face. He leaned back, "So, you found him. Tell me, what happened to him?"

Mica looked at the older man. He looked as if he would cry. She took a deep breath; She needed to put a cap on her emotions for now, "We were hoping you could tell us, Edward."

Nash took a deep breath, "I can't. All I knew was that he disappeared. I mean, I knew he was dead. When your as close as we where, you just know. I kept trying to lie to myself, say he was coming back, or he just ran off without me. But I knew."

"You two where close?" Mica leaned forward onto her knees. Patterson smirked; he would let her take care of this. The kid needed to start somewhere and Nash was a good starter.

"We were lovers." Edward smirked sadly. "Jon was not the warmest person, but I couldn't have asked for a better friend."

"Can you tell us about the last time you saw him?" Del Salvo said, feeling a pang of remorse for the man. She could not let it cloud her judgment though. She needed the facts. Not sympathy.

"Of course, I could never forget it." Nash said, his green eyes growing moist.

?-?

It was cold out, even for that time of year. End of October, the day before Halloween. Edward Nygma stood looking down at a mess of object strewn all over the table at his safe house. Jonathan was so disorganized when he was working on a project. This was his next big 'experiment'. That's what he called all his plots and schemes. Experiments on the nature of fear. Crane was obsessed with the concept of fear. But he was not so good with money. So, he was going to make the most of this experiment, using it as a distraction. He had a huge heist planned. But whatever it was he had not let Nygma in on it.

Crane came into the room from the bathroom. He was sick again; The man was pushing fifty. Both he and Edward knew he was too old to be running around like he did. They both were. But Jonathan would not give it up; he was much too obsessive to do so. And Nygma, despite his better judgment, did not try to stop him. He knew he would regret it later, but he could not talk Jonathan out of it. There was no way he would listen.

Edward flopped down on a dingy couch. He looked over at Crane, with a sad smile, "Come on, Spooky. Wait until tomorrow at least. You're not doing too good..."

Jonathan sat down on the couch next to Edward. He was wearing his Scarecrow costume, without the mask. He looked almost the same he had the day Edward had met him; His hair was peppered with gray and his glasses had gotten thicker, but he was almost unchanged. He coughed a little and shook his head. He spoke in his usual cold and monotone voice, "No. It has to be tonight. I think this will be it. I don't much like conducting research in Gotham anymore. I think I'll go to Thailand. I've spent some time there in the past."

Laughing Edward leaned against the older man, "Thailand, huh? When are you going to do that?"

"I think in a couple of days. Would you like to join me?"

Nygma was stunned. Jonathan would come and go as he pleased, never really wanting Edward to follow. He would disappear for months, and then just show up on Edward's doorstep. But this time he had asked him to come along. Nygma knew what this had meant. They were leaving for good. He would get to spend the rest of his days with Jonathan, away from this cesspool of a city. Edward threw his arms around Crane.

"Of course, I would! Why did you even ask?"

Crane was not one for affection, but, in Edward's case, he was known to make exceptions. He wrapped his thin arms around the younger man. Jonathan actually smiled a bit. He leaned in and kissed him. A soft, sweet kiss, a rare treat from the normally very icy Crane. Nygma enjoyed every second of it, not knowing it was the last kiss he would ever want from anyone.

Jonathan pulled away from the other's lips softly, "Then wait. I will have everything ready by tomorrow." He got up from the couch. He took his Scarecrow mask and hat off the table and put them on. "I'll be back. I have to got a speak with a few people first."

"Jonathan, don't go! Let's just leave for Thailand now!" Nygma got up and embraced Crane, leaning into his chest.

Crane shook his head, "No, I need to take care of this. Just stay here. I will be back. I promise this time."

"I hate you." Edward laughed into Jonathan's chest.

Crane laughed and pushed the younger man away softly, "I know." He turned and walked out, looking back over his shoulder one last time at Nygma. Edward knew he was smiling under that mask.

000

Del Salvo bit her lip; Unsure what to say, she simply ask: "What happened next?"

"Well, Jon came back and we went to Thailand. Then we lived happily ever after!" Nash said sarcastically, despite the fact he was openly crying now. "What the fuck did you think happened? He didn't come back! I waited. For weeks, then months. It was a year later to the day that I finally accepted that he was gone. I..." He wiped his eyes and composed himself. "Excuse me, I'm sorry. I turned myself into Arkham the next day. I drove up in a stolen car and walked into the hospital like a normal person. Two years later I was allowed to leave. I went to school, then I started working here. Now I'm a perfect upstanding citizen. Hoo-fucking-ra for me."

Patterson put a hand on Nash's, "Do you know where he was going? And who it was he was going to see?"

Edward shook his head, "Jonathan never was good with communication. He always withheld things from me. I think he thought it was funny." the older man ran his hand through his hair. "I couldn't tell you."

Mica took out the bagged diamond, "Do you recognized this, maybe? It was found on Jonathan."

Nash closed his eyes and put his head in his hands, "Oh Jon, what the hell did you do?" He sat back up. "That was call the Ojo del Diablo. The devil's eye, the Joker was going to steal it. If Jon beat him to it..." Nash looked pale.

"If Joker wanted it, and kill Jonathan for it," Del Salvo said. "Why did he not take it?"

Patterson put a hand on her shoulder, "The Joker was not like other criminal you've probably seen. He did not care about money or fame, or anything for that matter. He just wanted to set the world on fire."

"Right." Edward spoke quietly, "How did he die? Was he in pain?"

Mica shook her head, "No, as far as we can tell he was killed from a fall. Probably died on impact."

The old man nodded, "Then it probably wasn't Joker. He would have tortured Jon to death. Or came after me. Was...was he alone?"

"We don't think so. Someone took the time to put him in a cement floor in the Broadway shopping mall. Do you know why he was there?"

Edward laughed, "Picking up some jewelry? I told you. Jon was always tight-lipped about his plans."

Patterson nodded, "Thanks, Nash. I'm sorry we had to drag all this up. It must be difficult."

Nash bit his lip, holding back either tears or laughter. It was hard to tell. "I'm learning to live with it."

Del Salvo looked at the older man, sympathetically, "Do you ever miss it? Being the Riddler, I mean."

He sighed, "The Riddler's dead. He died with the Scarecrow." He spun back around in his chair. "Now, please, if you don't need anything else, I would like to be alone."

Patterson got up, so Mica did as well. The two turned and went out. The young woman stopped in the door. "Edward, I'll let you know when we find something out."

The old man spoke in a cracked voice, "Thank you, young lady."

The young detective stepped out into the hall with her partner. He smiled at her, an approving smile, "Good job. You stayed on task but were still sympathetic. So, where next?"

"Edward said something about the Joker," Mica thought for a second. "But he's dead. Gunned down at that carnival."

Patterson smiled and nodded in agreement, "True. But the Joker had a partner, a side kick."

"What? Is he still alive?"

"_She_ is alive and well." The older detective corrected the girl, "Harley Quinn. Or Harleen Quinzel. She runs a battered woman's shelter."

"How did you know that?" Del Salvo raised an eyebrow to her partner.

He shrugged, "GCPD keeps tabs on all ex-masks. And she's at the top of the list."

The two boarded the elevator, heading to ground level.

000

Patterson and Del Salvo arrived at a large house in the Gotham suburbs. It was white and plain, out of the way. A safe and quite place. Mica wondered how it was that a woman would have ever wanted to be anywhere near the Joker. She shook the thought from her head. There was work to be done._ Eyes on you, girl._

The two detectives left their car and headed up onto the porch of the house. The older detective knocked on the door. With in seconds a short, round woman answered the door. She had short, blond hair and flashing blue eyes.

"Can I help you?" She spoke with a heavy accent, lower east-Gotham.

Patterson smiled, "I'm Detective Patterson and this is Detective Del Salvo, are you Harleen Quinzel?"

The woman at the door nodded, "Call me Harley, everyone does. Come in, officers."

The aged Harley lead the detectives through the house. The house was full of people, women and children, of course. It made Del Salvo nauseous; there were so many horrible people in the world. Quinzel lead them to the kitchen, where a young woman was cooking at the stove.

"Detectives, please, have a seat," She motioned to the table. The woman then turned to the girl at the stove, "Brittany, sweetie, could you excuse us a sec?"

The dark headed girl looked surprised but nodded, " Okay, mama." She left the kitchen. Harleen sat down at the table with the others.

"Now, what is it you all want?" She looked worried, "Nothing to do with any of my girls?"

Del Salvo shook her head, "No. Actually, it has to do with something from twenty years ago. A few days ago, we found the body of Jonathan Crane. We believe the Joker might have been involved in his murder, do you remember anything that could help us wrap this up?"

The older woman sat back in her chair, looking distant, "Wow. I-I ain't heard anything about them in years." She nodded, "I remember the professor well. He was scary as hell. Eddie, my old friend, was nuts about him though. I never understood. I guess we had the same problem, Me and Eddie. It took me years to pull my head from my backside. And Brittany. I found her and she help me find my way." The older woman smiled. She then looked serious. "I remember the last time I saw that creepy bastard alright."

H-H

Harley Quinn sat on the couch, with a tiny, little girl. The child was only about four or so. Quinn did not know for sure. She had found the girl wandering around in an alley, sick and all alone, according to her. Years ago, she'd have abandon the child. But time had a way of making things different. Harley had spent years living with Gotham's most infamous criminal. Years of torment and abuse. And as she got older, she began to lose the youthful excitement of being a criminal and realize the terror of being a victim. She held the little girl to her chest, humming softly to her, trying to ignore the raised voices from the other room.

"...chance in hell, Crane." The Joker yelled, throwing something.

A cold, unfeeling voice responded, "I'm selling it. To the Russian."

There was silence. Then a laugh. The Joker's laugh. "You know, I think that'll be all right then, Doc!"

"Fine. You'll know where to get it from then. I just need the money."

Something smashed, then more laughter from the clown prince of crime, "What you need, Crane? Some more straw?"

"Plane tickets."

"Tickets?" the Joker said as two sets of foot steps neared the door. "What for?"

The Scarecrow's voice again, "That's my business." He stepped through the door into the next room, where Harley and the child were. He walked past them. Harley set down the girl and followed the Scarecrow.

"Hey, Professor, where you taking a plane to?" The young woman chirped.

Crane stopped, "Edward and I are going to Thailand. And we are not coming back."

The woman stepped in front of the older man, "What? Why?"

He did not answer; he just pushed past her and went out the door into the night.

000

Quinzel leaned back, "Of course, he disappeared. Eddie, the dummy, didn't give it up for a year. Never really did. The idiot wasted his whole life crying over that jerk. He just won't move on. It's really sad."

Del Salvo nodded, "Do you know where he went?"

"Oh, after some diamond. Mist- the Joker wanted it." The older woman looked down at the table, "But he let Scarecrow go after it, because it would have caused more trouble to steal it from that gangster than from the rich cat that owned it. It got stolen but not sold."

"I know, we found it on Crane's body." Patterson spoke. He seemed rather cold, "Do you know of anyone else Jonathan might have seen that night?"

"Well, my guess would be the Batman." Quinzel looked over to a clock on the wall. "Now, if you people are done trying to catch a hero for killing a sicko, I got to go. I have a mandatory therapy session in fifteen minutes."

The two officers got up and walked out of the kitchen. The headed out of the house and back to their car. Del Salvo could not put her finger on it but she knew something was up with her partner. The both of them got into the car.

"Um, Gary, wh-"

"Sorry, kid." the older officer shook his head, "When I was a rookie, that woman and her boyfriend decided it would be funny to drug a candy store with that poison they used. Killed a lot of people. A lot of kids. I don't care how much therapy she has had. I really can't stomach her."

Mica put a hand on her shoulder, "Well, you did good by me then. What's next?"

"Well, I've got to put a call into Arkham." Patterson started up the car, "Then tomorrow, we go and speak to Bruce Wayne."

000

The car pulled up in front of the Elizabeth Arkham Asylum for the Criminally insane. Patterson and Del Salvo entered through the visitor's gate. The older detective parked the car and turned it off.

"Okay, go get him, kid." Patterson smiled to the young woman.

"What?" Mica was a little stunned, "I'm going alone?"

Detective Patterson laughed, "Yes, of course. It's not like he's an ax murderer, Salvo. You can handle this."

The young detective nodded, smiling. She stratened her jacket and stepped out of the car. She walked with confidence toward the visitor's center. Her partner believed in her; Her father would have too. She went into the building and showed her ID to the receptionist. Being directed to a room, the young woman moved along to it. She entered. It was rather plain, a table and two chairs on either side. In one, sat Bruce Wayne, multimillionaire, philanthropist, vigilante. He was somewhere near sixty, but he was aging very well. He had a finely chiseled face, bright blue eyes, and salt and pepper hair, leaning more toward the salt. He wore the typical Arkham outfit, a plan blue set of cloths. Blue clothing was for no-risk patients, self-admitted.

"Good afternoon, you must be Detective Del Salvo. I'm Bruce Wayne," He smiled warmly, putting out a hand. The young woman shook it. His hands were strong but gentle. She let go and took a seat across from the man. She could not believe it. This man had been the Batman. He had spent years fighting the corruption of this city. Del Salvo idolized him.

"Nice to meet you, Bruce." The woman set a file on the table, "I have to ask you about something that happened twenty years ago, so I'll understand if you can't help me. I need to know when was the last time you saw Jonathan Crane. We found his body, under the cement floor of the Broadway shopping mall. We have reason to believe he was murdered."

The older man leaned back in his chair. His face was grim, almost sad. He ran a hand in his graying hair and sighed, "Yes, I can tell you."

B-B

There had been a silent alarm tripped at a near by penthouse. Batman's dash board consul in his car alerted him of this. He could be there before the police. The dark Knight smiled and turned his car around. It was going to be an easy night for him, but not for some unfortunate thief. He sped through the dark streets of Gotham, down Broadway. Within minutes, he arrived at the scene. Batman opened up the over-head door on this car and aimed his line launcher. He fired and was ripped out of the car and up to the top of the high rise. The car closed and locked itself up as it had done a hundred times before.

The knight was pulled to the top ledge. He pulled himself up. As he did, he saw a figure running across the roof. Almost a stick figure, actually. Batman knew exactly who it was. Scarecrow. But the dark knight was a little confused. Breaking and entering was not Crane's game, normally. He was up to something. Batman took after the other man. Crane picked up his pace, jumping to the next roof. He was heading toward the new mall that was still under construction. Batman would have to catch him before he got there. It was too dangerous for him to chase him in there. He shot his line launcher, catching a water tower a little ways ahead of the Scarecrow. The knight was jerked forward faster than Crane could run. He dropped, mid-flight, in front of his fleeing adversary.

"Give it up, Scarecrow." Batman warned, "You can't run." 

The Scarecrow stopped, his breathing labored. He leaned over, coughing and laughing, "For once, you're right. I can't run. I don't think I could even walk anymore." He stood back up strait, "Batman, just this once, let me go."

The dark knight looked at Crane with disbelief, "What?"

"I-I'm selling this to the Russian," Crane covered his already mask-covered mouth, coughing again. "Get it back from him. I need the money. Edward and I are going away. For good."

Batman was quiet. He was not sure what to do. He knew Crane was serious. The knight let out a sigh, "Go."

"Thank you, Batman." the Scarecrow walked past Batman and headed toward the mall.

000

Wayne sat there silent. He looked down into his lap, "I should not have let him go. I should have taken him in, or hell, even bought it from him myself. Not like I couldn't have afforded it. Maybe he wouldn't have been killed. I...I failed him. I lost another person. Someone else I couldn't save."

"No, Bruce." Del Salvo shook her head. She reached out and put a hand on her hero's shoulder, "You did not fail. There was no way you could have known. You can't save everyone, Bruce. It's too much to take on yourself."

The older man shook his head, laughing, "What about you, detective? You're chasing a twenty year old mystery to find the person that murdered a man who spent his life driving others insane for his own amusement. No one cares about Jonathan Crane. Why would you waste your time?"

Mica was surprised that Wayne would say something like that. She looked hard at him, "Edward Nash does. And I do. And it doesn't matter. A murderer needs to be brought to justice."

Bruce grinned broadly, "You remind me of a stupid young man I once knew. He though he could save them all too. I like that. I'm sorry I couldn't help you. I'm just an old man." He took her hands. They felt like her father's. "Why do you do this?"

"For my father. He tried to save everyone too. He helped a kid, some gang-banger, took a bullet out of his chest. The boy who shot the kid came back and finished the job. My dad tried to stop him. He couldn't."

Wayne nodded, quiet. They both sat in silence for while, each lost in memories of the past.

"Detective Del Salvo," Bruce said after a bit. "Go out there. Fight it. Don't ever give up. Good luck."

She smiled, feeling tears running down her face. She spoke without thinking, "Thank you, Batman."

He then nodded again, "Thank you."

Mica got up from the table. She turned and walked out. This had changed her. There were others out there like her and her father. And she knew that she did not fight alone.

000 

Patterson sat at his desk, looking over the final report on the body. Squirrel had brought it by earlier. Nothing new. The chemical was just Crane's fear toxin. There was not much to determine from Crane himself. His remains would be released for burial. To whom, the detective guessed Nash. Crane had no living relatives, other than a half-sister, though she had never met him. He sighed and took a deep breath.

"Detective Patterson?"

The older man looked up. Standing there was a young woman. She was the one that had been a Quinzel's home. He smiled at the girl, "How can I help you, Miss?"

She looked sad, "Hi, I'm Brittany Quinzel. You spoke with my mother. I...I think she lied to you."

Patterson looked at the young woman, stunned. He got up from his desk, "Do you?"

Del Salvo walked up. The young woman looked over to her as she answered Patterson, "Yes. I mean, I was like four. But I never forgot that tall, skinny man. Or how my mom took us out in the car at three in the morning."

Mica looked at the girl, trying to remain sympathetic, "Would you like to sit down?"

"No," the young girl shook her head. "I don't feel good about this as it is. I'm just going to tell you what I know and leave. My mom put me in the car. She drove us around, and stopped somewhere. Mom told me to stay in the floorboard until she came back. We were out in front of the mall."

Detective Del Salvo looked at the young woman with astonishment, "Why do you think she went there?" 

"I don't know. I told you I was four." Brittany put her hands hips, speaking with the same heavy accent as her adopted mother, "Just...just figure this out."

Patterson sat back down at his desk, "Why would you come forward with this? It could get your mother in trouble."

Quinzel shook her head, "I could remember his eyes. That man, his eyes were so...strange. I never forgot them. And Harley is not really my mom. She just took me in after Joke killed my parents. I love her like a mother, but she's done horrible things."

The girl turned and left. Del Salvo and Patterson stood, a little shocked. The older detective looked over at his partner and he shrugged. "Let's go get Miss Quinzel."

000

Del Salvo and Patterson stood in the interrogation room with Harleen Quinzel. She sat at a desk, smirking. She knew why she was there.

"So, you want to know why I was at the mall?" Quinzel looked off into the ceiling.

"Yes," Del Salvo sat across from her.

"Because I was going to kill Jonathan Crane."

H-H

Harley got out of the car. She saw Crane go into the construction site. The woman followed him in. The man was standing up on the second floor of the unfinished mall. She scaled the wall and jumped up in front of the older man.

"Harley, what is it you want?" the professor said in his cold voice.

The woman snarled at him, "You can't take Eddie away. He's my friend. I ain't got enough of those as it is!"

He walked around her, standing, over looking the court yard of the unfinished mall, "I'm sorry, child, but this isn't going to change anything. I'm taking him away from all this. Before he gets in real trouble. Or gets killed."

Quinn walked up behind him, yelling now, "No! You can't! Eddie, he's-"

The Scarecrow turned around, taking off his mask. "Harley, I'm getting sixty thousand off this diamond. It will be more than enough for four plane tickets. You and the child could come with us. We're going far away. The Joker wouldn't hurt you anymore. Edward and I would look after you both."

"NO! No!" Harley yelled. She pushed the tall, thin man. She had not meant to push him so hard. He was just so thin and light. Crane stumble backwards, losing his balance. He fell over the edge. The woman reached for him. She tried to grab him, but she was not fast enough. He fell without a sound. Until he hit the ground below. It was a horrible sound. A crunching mix with a squish. She would never be able to sleep again without waking up from hearing it in her nightmares.

Harley stood looking down at the Scarecrow. He did not move or even make a sound. She climbed back down to ground level. She ran over next to the man. He was still breathing, although it was heavy and wet sounding.

"Now...you have to...tell Edward...I'm sorry I broke my promise..." He slurred out, spitting up blood. He gasped and choked. Then he was silent. For good. Quinn stared for the longest time. She had killed a lot of people before. She watched a lot of deaths. This was different. Killing Crane, watching him die, she felt something that she had not felt in years. Guilt. She realized that he was a person. That Crane had hopes and dreams, like she did. She knew that he would be missed. That someone's life was going to be ruined by his death. And that someone was one of her best friends.

"No...No, Eddie can't know..." She whispered to herself. The woman picked up Crane. She held back sobs. He was so light, it was like carrying Brittany. Except she could feel his shattered bones grinding. She carried him forward, under the balcony they had just been on. The area was prepped for concrete to be poured. It was even ready in the mixer. Harley laid the Scarecrow's body down in the empty space. The woman had spent years running with gangsters of all types; she knew how to pour concrete, especially to hide a body. So that's what she did. Eddie would not know the difference. Crane was like a cat; He would disappear and come back when he felt like it. Sometimes cats just do not come back. As long as Eddie did not know, it would be fine. Maybe he would just move on after a while. She hoped he would. She stood there, crying, watching as Jonathan Crane disappeared for what she hoped was forever.

000

"So that was it. I put a slab of concrete over him," Quinzel was smiling. Not the arrogant smile she had came in with, but more of a defeated smile. "I didn't mean to kill him, really. It just happened. I hated Crane. He was cold, frightening, and he was cruel, even to Eddie. But he had changed, or at least was trying to. And I took that away."

Del Salvo was at a loss for words. Her partner spoke up, "Harley, they will be taking you back to Arkham shortly, but someone wants to talk to you."

The door to the room opened up and Nash came in. He looked rather grim. Patterson had him watching the conversation from on the other side of the two way mirror.

"Hello, Harley."

Tears welled in the older woman's eyes, "Hi, Eddie. Jon told me to tell you something: He's sorry he broke his promise."

Edward looked at Harley. He did not look angry or even sad. He was just expressionless. "Why? Why didn't you just go with us?"

"I couldn't. Not with him. Not while you were with him." She stopped herself from bursting into sobs, "He didn't deserve to be with you. And you didn't deserve the way he treated you. You and I, we were in the same situation."

"You treated me worse in the end, Harls." Nash shook his head. "Tell Ivy I said 'hi' when you get back to Arkham." He walked out of the room. Two officers came in and took Harleen Quinzel away."

Patterson and Del Salvo stood in silence. The older man looked at his younger partner, "What's wrong, Salvo?"

"Gary," she looked distant, distracted really. "I don't think this job is for me."

000

Del Salvo leaned against her personal car, standing outside the main building of Arkham Asylum. Edward Nash had accompanied her. They stood there, leaning on the car, watching Quinzel being taken into the building. And as she went in, Bruce Wayne was walking out, surrounded by cameras and badgering reporters. He made his way out of the mess and over to the young detective's car.

"So, Detective Del Salvo, tell me," His voice was warm but firm, much like the young woman's father's had been. "Do you think you could do this all the time? Go out and fight the madness that is Gotham? To save even those that do not want to be saved? To throw away any chance at a real life?"

Nash leaned on the top of the car, laughing, "You trying to scare her out of this Bats? I think she's made up her mind."

Del Salvo nodded. "Yes. I'm ready. And I'll need your help. Both of you."

Wayne smiled broadly, "Alright, but don't think I'll go easy on you because you're a girl."

The three of them got into Mica's car. Wayne in the driver's seat, Nash in the passengers, and Del Salvo in the back. Bruce turned the engine and pulled out of the lot. They started down the highway, toward Wayne Manor.

"So, you gonna put on the bat suit and kick some ass, little miss?" Nash leaned over his seat to talk to the young woman.

She held a box in her lap. Mica shook her head, "No, I could never be the Bat, and besides, that would bring unwanted attention to Bruce."

Wayne smiled and raised an eyebrow, "So, then what are you going to be? What are you thinking, Del Salvo?"

Del Salvo opened box, pulling out a burlap mask, "I was thinking something more...scary."


End file.
